A Midnight Clear
by 3iggy
Summary: On a lonely winter's night Sarah finds herself faced with a daring decision. Does she take a chance to discover some holiday magic? Or let it slip away into the night like so many dreams want to do? Be prepared for my usual Christmas Laybfic fare.
1. Chapter 1

There were two very good reasons not to leave the house that night. It had been snowing for three days straight _and_ the car wouldn't start.

Sarah had brushed over a foot of snow off the old clunker just to discover the door was frozen shut. After prying that open, the dinosaur had flatout refused to start.

"Have it your way," Sarah said, slamming the door so hard the glass in the window rattled. The sound echoed over the snow-muffled world with an unnatural clang.

A northern wind grabbed at Sarah's braid while sending fresh powder drifting from the pine trees and roof. But, she leaned against the traitorous vehicle and braved the chill. The sun was setting and there was something heartbreakingly lovely about the rosy glow frosting the tops of the hemlocks, painting the snow-laden hills even as darkness threatened the world's edges.

A lone coyote emerged from the forest at the back of the cottage, clearly visible in the otherwise still landscape. Sarah watched him turn his sly head before pouncing on some hapless creature tunneling below the snow.

"Are you looking for Rexroth's daughter? A friend of a friend of mine?" Sarah cocked her own head at the coyote while he pounced again.

Inhaling a chest full of frigid air, Sarah pushed off the car and made her way back into the cottage following the path she'd waded through earlier. Already it was filling with snow once more. Crystals clung to her eyelashes and shimmered in her hair. Surly, she looked like a runner up for the next Snow Queen.

Stomping the snow off her boots on the little porch, she gave herself a good shaking off before opening the door. She had to call Karen, she thought, tugging off her gloves and shouldering out of her damp coat. Throwing everything on a bench by the door, before sitting down herself to unzip her boots, she mentally prepared herself for the conversation.

"Oh Sarah, I told you to leave last weekend. You knew the snow was coming. Now everyone will be disappointed. This means you'll _have_ to come for New Year's, you know," Sarah said as she went around the room plugging in the tree, and other strands of lights. Crouching by the fireplace she set to work coaxing a fire into life.

"Wake-up, little Calcifer, I know you've got it in you," she whispered to the flame that flickered weakly in the grate. As if it believed her—the fire crackled and grew.

"Very good," Sarah murmured, feeding a smaller log into the glowing kindling.

Leaving the fire to itself, she picked up the phone and gave Karen the bad news. The call went just as she'd suspected.

"Of course, I'll be there for New Year's," she said, padding into the kitchen in stockinged feet. "Don't let Toby steal my presents." Squeezing the phone between her shoulder and ear, Sarah stabbed a corkscrew into the top of a wine bottle. "Good bye, love you all."

She set the phone down and poured the wine into a saucepan then cut up an orange and chucked in some cinnamon sticks.

Lir, the one-eyed cat she'd let live with her at the cottage, was currently residing with a neighbor while she was supposed to be out of town, so Sarah had the cottage entirely to herself.

"Great," she said. "This will be wonderful—Christmas for one." Oh, but it wasn't wonderful at all. Sarah waited long enough for the wine to warm up, its spicy sweet scent filing the kitchen, before stuffing a box of Walker's shortbread cookies under her arm, filling up a mug, and turning toward the big old lonely sofa.

Then Sarah got an idea. An awful idea. Sarah got a wonderful, awful idea. Running back into the kitchen—sloshing wine in her haste—she grabbed a plate and a second mug. Dumping half the cookies on the plate, Sarah filled the extra mug with mulled wine and then took both across her small cottage, and balancing the plate on top of the mug, pulled the door open.

The sun was nearly gone now, but the snow made everything seem lit from below. Sarah deposited the plate and mug on the top step of the old wooden porch, sheltered as it was from the snow, which was falling even more heavily from the sky.

She didn't linger, just backed across the porch and shut the door. Retrieving her own goodies, she plopped herself down in an armchair near the window and waited.

Sarah couldn't believe how giddy she felt. This was nuts. Sitting there, instrumental Christmas music playing on the old record player, watching for snow fairies.

But, then the Sensible Bit of her brain—long used to neglect—chimed in. Was it a good idea to bait a Goblin King with cookies and wine? What exactly did that say? What could be communicated to his immortal majesty by such offerings?

Oh, it was reckless. But, Sarah had been careful for such a long time. If one was to be reckless, wasn't this magical time of year the very best time to do so?

The Sensible Bit crossed her arms and sat back down. It was likely she'd not be needed anytime soon.

Sarah nibbled a cookie and watched through the window.

The change was so subtle, she barely caught it, didn't fully see it happen. The view out her front window dropped into darkness. Pinpoints of light glowed far below. It was dizzying.

Sarah jerked upright and leapt over the arm of the chair, pressed her face against the cold glass. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she made out the shape of a city, candles burning in windows, smoke rising from twisted little chimneys.

Her heart slammed against her ribs as she stumbled back from the window and tripped right over the chair, landing in a heap on the hard wooden floor. A crackling, like laughter, came from the fireplace.

"Oh, shut up, you." Sarah cast the flames a scowl as she righted herself.

This was not what she'd expected. In a mad dash, she made her way to the kitchen window, fearful of what she might see from there, but the familiar trees and hillside greeted her. It seemed only the front portion of her cottage looked out over a goblin city.

Rushing back to the living room, her eyes caught on the front door. At least, it used to be her front door. Now a wide and seemingly ancient wooden arch sat incongruously along the wall of her tiny cottage nestled against the rose print wallpaper.

"What have I done?" Sarah asked as she took a faltering step toward the door that most certainly wasn't hers.

"How am I to know? Is that a riddle? If so it's a poorly worded one," a metallic voice answered.

There was a door-knocker. He held a metal ring in his long twig-like fingers and grinned at her from across the cottage, eyes full of mischief in his pointy little face.

"Hello." Sarah was drawn to the knocker.

As her feet carried her closer and closer to the door, she could feel a subtle shift in the air. A chill caused the hairs on her arms to stand at attention as goosebumps rushed over her skin.

It felt like magic.

"If you want to pass through this door," the knocker leered at her, "you have to answer a riddle."

Of course, it could never be easy.

"I didn't say that I wanted anything," Sarah canted her head at the door, her braid slipped over her shoulder with the motion.

"Oh? Didn't you though?" The knocker grinned. It looked like an imp more so than a goblin with its jagged teeth and witty eyes.

"What's the riddle?" Sarah took a step closer to the door and was assaulted with the smell of old stone and dust. It was heavenly.

The door-knocker's grin stretched and sharpened.

"Of this thing you must always have no less than two, otherwise you have none at all," the knocker replied.

Sarah said nothing. Her first reaction was to say that that wasn't enough information to make a guess. But, that sounded too much like saying the challenge wasn't fair and that just wouldn't do.

Could a pair exist if you only had one? She supposed it could. Just because a sock never emerged from the dryer, which happened to her more often than could truly be accounted for, that didn't mean that the one she found didn't have a mate out there in the world of lost dryer items somewhere. And, the riddle sounded as if you could have more than two, just not less than that same number.

Sarah's eyes wandered from the door to the sofa. From the window in the living room looking out over the labyrinth and the window across the way showing her the snow covered back garden.

What was he trying to say?

"It's a choice," Sarah turned a radiant smile on the door-knocker. You have to have at least two or you have none at all.

"Such a wise lady," the knocker cackled much like the fire had earlier.

The smile dimmed as she glanced once more from the door to the living room with its cozy fire and lonely sofa. He was giving her a choice, he was making it impossible for her to cast him as a villain this time around. It was on her if she stepped through that door.

Sarah's heart stuttered before it picked up an erratic rhythm. This was a game that she'd clearly started. She'd set out the invitation, she'd made the first move.

Was she brave enough to take the next step?

* * *

And, it is yearly Christmas Labyfic time! I usually do a short, but this slightly longer tale has clawed its way into my mind and won't leave. I realize I have another story waiting on a conclusion, but I'll get to it, I promise. January usually finds me more time to write as I hibernate on the sofa in the glow of the electric faux fireplace. I hope you enjoy my gift!


	2. Chapter 2

A coward, she was not.

But, there were things to consider. What if she couldn't find her way back? What if he couldn't be trusted? Actually, that was a dumb question, of course he couldn't be trusted.

Where did that leave her?

There was no way to talk herself out of it. Magic waited just on the other side of that door. Magic and danger and it called to her like nothing had in years. She felt the pull. Her blood sang with the promise of it all.

Sarah placed her hand against the door and looked the knocker in the eyes, "I want to go through, please."

With a twisted little grin the imp swung his metal ring which collided with the ancient wood resulting in a resounding thunk.

The door creaked and swung inward revealing a shaft of dusky light. Taking a deep breath, Sarah pushed through the door and stepped inside. There was no time to hesitate. If she stopped now she might never get another chance.

In an instant she'd prepared herself to come face to face with him. She'd been ready all night, really. Or at least, since she'd set out those cookies. But, the room she found herself in did not contain a Goblin King.

Gently pushing the door to, Sarah let her eyes wander over the racks of clothes, the shelves of shoes.

This was a closet. An enormous—_seemingly feminine_—closet.

A giggle sounded near her ear, Sarah whirred around and found a similar impish door knocoker staring at her from this side, but there was something different about this one. It was more feminine, like the room.

"If you wish to return, a clue from me you must learn," the knocker giggled.

"Oh," Sarah felt a moment of relief, she wasn't stranded then, "thanks."

The knocker just smiled.

Sarah turned back to the room, a round table overflowing with flowers waited for her in the middle.

The flowers were dried rather than fresh. Their colors faded. Their edges frayed, but the thorns of the roses were sharp as ever. Gently, Sarah traced a fingertip along the papery petals of what was once a blood red flower. Then her eyes landed on a note.

Her heart began to race. She'd felt a moment of disappointment when she'd found the room empty, but now her stomach was twisting into knots. She'd been naive to think he'd do anything she'd expected. No, this would not go the way she'd imagined. Even if she'd envisioned very little to start with—a quick encounter, his overwhelming presence, a scathing remark. Would he still unsettle her in the same way? Push her to say the wrong things just to turn her hasty words against her?

"Get it together, Sarah," she said to herself. Reaching for the note with no small amount of dread, Sarah's eyes scanned the scrawling script. It managed to be elegant and careless all at once. It could only belong to him.

_Take what you like. Be quick. The fun has already begun.-J_

"That's it?" Sarah sighed, letting her hand, and with it the letter, fall to her side as she tried to take in the sheer amount of clothing this ridiculous room held.

"He didn't even hint at the dress code," Sarah muttered while she walked to the nearest set of dresses and shoes, all in blues and silvers. "It would serve him right if I turned up just like this—ugly Christmas sweater and fuzzy socks."

"Those are right charming socks," a crackly voice said from the door Sarah had assumed led out of the closet. It belonged to a tall Goblin of the female persuasion. She had long spindly fingers and jet black hair that fell in waves to her waist. Not a stumpy, silly little thing. In fact, she was beautiful in a dreadful kind of way.

"Hello," Sarah tried to hide her unease. For the most part, she liked Goblins. Some of them. When they weren't trying to thwart her.

"A gown might be more appropriate, though," the Goblin said.

"Alright," Sarah turned her attention back to the clothes. Blue and silver didn't feel right. The collection of crimson and gold didn't either.

"Would you like help?" The Goblin asked as she watched from the door.

"Thank you, but no, I have to find the right one myself, that's how it's done," Sarah shook her head.

Then she saw it.

The dress was at the back of a selection of white gowns. Sarah removed the dress from the hanger and held it up to her, turning to one of the numerous mirrors.

It wasn't quite white, but more of a cream. The gown was speckled in golds and browns with hints of black and gray. It had an off the shoulder neckline with long sleeves and a high hem in the front with a longer flowing train. It was gorgeous even though it was made of feathers.

"That will look lovely with your hair," the goblin said, she had stepped quietly beside Sarah. "You will need golden tights," she turned to a chest of drawers and dug around until she found a significantly sparkling pair. They were as fine as cobwebs and Sarah suspected that might be exactly what they were made of.

The goblin ushered Sarah over to a vanity where they got her into the gown, then the tights, and a pair of black kid boots. Sarah said nothing as the goblin began to fix her hair or pull trinkets and cosmetics from one of the vanity drawers.

An excited energy hummed through Sarah as the goblin tugged her hair into shape, brushed color on her lips. This was real. It wasn't a fantasy. She was here in the castle beyond the Goblin City wearing the most beautiful, ridiculous dress she could ever dream up. And, she had no idea what she was about to walk into.

The goblin handed Sarah a pair of black gloves before stepping back to admire her work.

"What do you think?"

Sarah stood and turned to look in the mirror. For a moment, she didn't recognize herself. She was quite possibly wearing more makeup than a drag queen, but it was amazing. Black lips, eyes rimmed in black, white, and gold. Were those feathers on her lashes? The goblin had rendered her fierce but lovely.

Sarah giggled. It was a terribly inappropriate reaction to the goblin's hard work. "I look like the queen of the night," Sarah resisted the urge to touch her lips.

"It fits the dress," the goblin replied.

"What is your name?" Sarah turned away from the mirror to look at her companion. If she wasn't careful she'd stare at herself all night. The creature in the mirror with her green eyes was startling.

"Shoshti," the goblin woman smiled.

"Sarah," Sarah said as she pulled on the gloves and stuck her hand out. "It's nice to meet you."

"I know who you are," the goblin grinned and gave Sarah's outstretched hand a good shake. "The girl who ate the peach and forgot everything."

"Only momentary," Sarah said.

"I hope to find that your memory has improved," the goblin said as she motioned for Sarah to follow her.

It was a strange statement, but Sarah held her tongue as she followed her guide through the twists and turns of a part of the castle she didn't remember. "I think it is bigger on the inside," she mumbled as they turned yet another corner.

The castle was awash in the dusky pink light that poured through the open window arches. It wasn't dark as she'd thought looking out of her own window earlier. She didn't remember the light changing at all during her time in the Labyrinth, actually.

Music flowed down the next turn they took. The air filled with the scent of evergreens and warm beeswax.

"Go on," Shoshti said, pointing down the hall. "Have fun."

"Thanks," Sarah felt her heartbeat quicken. It had stilled while they wandered the castle but now it seemed intent on breaking through her ribcage.

The boots didn't hinder her speed as heels might have, so Sarah clicked her way around the last bend alone.

A midnight forest greeted her, stealing her breath.

Oh, it was a ballroom, nonetheless bare-truncked trees soared up into a star filled sky as green and blue lights twisted above in a secret dance all their own. A wine red waterfall sang out from across the room as snow fell from above and evaporated as if it were nothing before hitting the black marble floor.

Masterful, delightful, illusions. The things Christmas dreams were made of. There were ghostlike reindeer gazing from among the trees, the random chiming of bells beneath the music and the warm smells of pine and sweet spices.

Goblin men and women, graceful and lithe like Shoshti, danced around the trees to the music that seemed to be coming from everywhere. It felt both otherworldly but familiar, fast but slow also. Sarah took a deep breath and tried to take it all in.

A goblin woman, with a beautifully angular face and obsidian eyes, stepped out of the throng and took Sarah's hand. Before she could pull back or say anything, the woman had pulled Sarah into her arms and into the dance.

At first, it was dizzying, the circles and twists, but Sarah picked up the steps easily and the other woman was a good leader. A smile broke out over her face as the woman sent her into a twirl and pulled her back in before they set off dancing between the trees, the enchanted snow never quite landing on them.

After what could've been an entirety or just a few moments, the woman relinquished her to a goblin man with the same coal black eyes and sharp features. Her new partner had careful claws as he swung her around and around the dance floor.

The next time she was handed over to a new partner, Sarah felt a jolt of trepidation shoot up her spine as a pair of blue eyes, rimmed in gold, looked down into hers.


End file.
